The Mortal Ring
by Japtune
Summary: Steph journeys into the world of Shadowhunters, Downworlders and demons. But what lies for her on the other side? Pain? Stress? ..Love? What will happen once she realizes who her father was, or who she even is? [This is a fan fiction off of the series by Cassandra Clare, please do not judge me, that is all c: Thank you!]


Chapter 1- The Shade

The Pandemonium Club at night was interesting. It was dark and spooky, unlike any other club Steph had been to before. The Club at this time of night was scary and Steph didn't like coming here, but she had to, for her brother. Only this Club at this hour had her brother's cure.  
Steph stepped forward into the Club; no one was there; no noise no sound, only the shrill sound of the wind echoed through the Club's open rooms. Drinks were left on the counter unattended, and a broken piece of glass shrieked under Steph's foot.  
A dark figure turned around, Steph couldn't see his face, she never could, but he always freaked her out; his black hoodie covering his face, his deep booming voice, even this place gave her shivers up her spine. The Shade, in which Steph called him, looked at her.  
"Steph," He spoke, his voice like needles. "What brings you here at this… untimely hour?" Steph couldn't see it, but she swore she caught a glimpse of a smile under his hood.  
"You know what I want; the medicine."  
He laughed a shrill sort of sound. "Oh, _that's_ what you want." The Shade said it with so much sarcasm that Steph would chuckled under her breath if she hadn't been as scared as she was now. The Shade pulled out his hand from under his cloak, with it was a small bag; Steph knew want it contained. She reached to take it from him, but he withdrew.  
"You know what I want, I must have it first," The Shade said, and Steph heard a hint of anxiety in his deep voice; but Steph nodded; she had what he needed, and had no use for it. She handed him the papers which she had found in her father's office. They were some sort of tattoo designs, unlike any she'd seen before. They had words under them; speed, strength and angelic.  
Steph handed them over and felt the Shade's hand brush against hers. It was cold; ice cold. She withdrew and shivered under her clothes, though it was a hot summer's night. The Shade handed over the pouch. She looked inside, there it was; the medicine that was keeping her brother alive.  
Steph looked up at the Shade. She nodded and he nodded back, and just like the sun he lit up. Steph looked away until the light had subsided. He did this every time Steph came to retrieve the medicine and every time he disappeared without a trace.  
Steph didn't know how he got the potion to keep her brother alive; she didn't know why he even needed those fancy tattoos that she found in her father's office.  
Standing alone in the Pandemonium Club at night _was_ scary, especially now that she was alone. Heading home, she stepped outside of the Club. The lights of New York's night time lit up the streets as the Shade had lit up the Club. Steph looked up at the moon, it was full and bright, lighting up the street even more.  
Suddenly she felt a shove to her right. She was knocked to the ground and hit her head on the cement. She held her tongue in order to stop her from crying out. She looked up and a boy with tawny brown hair was standing over her, a worried look in his expression.  
"Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!" The boy said, tripping over himself to apologize to her. "I-I'm late for something." Then he was off. Steph stared in wonder as the boy raced off; sprinting like a lion was following him. Just to make sure, Steph looked behind her; nope, no lion. She sighed and got up. Her head ached and her shoulders drooped. She had to get back to her brother.  
Steph decided to walk home instead of catch a taxi, the fresh air would do her nothing but good. She hummed quietly to herself as she walked down an alley and towards her apartment. A stray cat stood, hunched over a piece of fish. It scowled and hissed at her as Steph passed it; but she ignored it; she had been away from her brother too long.  
She reached the door and put the key in the lock. She fumbled with it, hurrying to get the door open; and when she did, she almost screamed. The apartment was no longer there. The walls were ripped apart, the ground was pricked with nails and there was nothing in the room, not even her brother. Steph fell to her knees, but then she heard something, a weird sort of humming. She looked up and saw a door. A door just placed in the middle of the room.  
It was a coopery colour and the handle of it looked like an eye. A soft glowing aura emitted from the edges of the rim. Steph stood up and stepped inside the room. The door- the one to her apartment- slammed shut behind her and the room was dark, all but the glowing of the door in the middle.  
Steph reached for the handle of the door, and before she had even turned it, it swung open. Steph tried to get away, but the door pulled her in, and before long she found herself tumbling into pitch black emptiness.

It took Steph a while for her eyes to get used to the dim light. She didn't know where she was, or even what led her there, all she remembered was the door. As soon as her eyes had adjusted she looked around. She was in a room, a fairly large room. It had a large bookcase and purple curtains, supposedly covering a window. The room was dimly lit by a torch hanging on the wall.  
Steph stood up and saw a desk and a black leather chair. No one was there so she walked over towards the desk. Pieces of paper were spread all over it, and on the paper were tattoos. Steph instantly thought that she was in her father's office, but it had got cleared out so it mustn't be.  
Suddenly Steph heard the door open. She spun around and came face-to-face with a girl. Through the dim light, Steph made out a caramel-coloured short girl. Her smoky hair was braided down her back and her almost-black eyes were fixed on Steph. The girl was small, but pretty.  
"You're not Ripley…" She said, and as she spoke, Steph caught a glimpse of her arms. They were covered in tattoos, black marks that covered her arms and her legs. They looked just like the tattoos in… her father's office. The girl stepped forward, pointing her finger at Steph's chest.  
"Who are you?" She said, her eyes narrowing. With sudden movement, she stopped a startled look on her face. Steph looked down at herself, wondering why the girl stopped. Did she have bad breath? Was her hair messy? But no, that couldn't match the very surprised expression on the girl; she was utterly mortified.  
"What? What is it?" Steph asked.  
"Y-you have wings? Are you a warlock?" The girl said, ignoring Steph's previous question.  
"Wings? I don't have wings!" Steph exclaimed, horrified. Why had the girl asked _that_?  
"Yes," The girl said, "yes, you do." She pointed to the area behind Steph's back. Straining her neck, Steph tilted her head, and there, placed behind her back were… wings; white fluffy wings. They were feathered and silky, attached to her back. They swung from side to side like they had a mind of their own. But they couldn't have, they weren't real. Steph tried squeezing her eyes close, but it didn't work; the wings stayed where they were.  
"What is going on?" Steph cried, frustrated about being confused. She never had wings before; she never even knew what this place was, let alone this girl. The tattoos, the paper on the desk, it all had brought back memories of her father. She felt the urge to cry, but she couldn't; not in front of this girl she didn't know.  
"You're a warlock," the girl said, leaning against the wall. She looked bored, unlike she had looked before.  
"A…_ what_?"  
"You know; a warlock, a Downworlder?" The girl questioned, and when Steph didn't show any sign of recognition, she shook her head. "You really don't know." It was more of a statement than a question.  
"No, I don't know what a warlock is, much less a Downworlder," Steph replied. These fancy nicknames the girl was using were weird and scary. All Steph wanted to do was go home, to her brother, but she knew she couldn't.  
"Humph, well, seeing as you _don't_ know what a warlock is… a warlock is the offspring of a demon and a human. They are the vilest of creatures, the things of devils!" The girl had a scornful look on her face, directing at Steph. Steph wondered why the girl showed these signs of hatred at her, what had she done wrong? To Steph's extent, she hadn't done anything wrong.  
"So you're saying I'm one of these creatures?" Steph asked; a hint of sarcasm to her voice. Was this girl just pulling her leg? Warlocks? Demons? Downworlders?  
"Well, warlocks have special marks on them. It might be cat eyes, or in your case… wings."  
"And what are you?" Steph gestured to the girl's tattoos, narrowing her eyes at her. "You're not strictly speaking normal either."  
The girl looked at her, a grin spreading on her face. "I'm a Shadowhunter."


End file.
